I'll Burn for You
by WitchyCloudpine
Summary: My body collapsed into his arms, but I had no energy left to care. His mouth moved, and yet all I could hear was faint ringing in my ears. My cheek rested on his shoulder, and as my eyes closed I felt something wet roll onto my skin. It was a rare sight to see, an archangel crying. His lips trembled against my ear, as he whispered. "I'm going to fix you." [OC angels]
1. Chapter 1

"Why did you volunteer to go, Sela?"

I felt frustration roll off him in waves, and it crashed against my shoulders as I continued forward. _Don't look at him. _I repeated the mantra over in my head. I had to remain calm and professional. My reputation was on the line.

"It is my duty as an archangel to enforce all oaths and promises made-"

A warm hand closed over my shoulder, jerking me back with such a force that I nearly stumbled.

"Don't feed me some bullshit jargon, Sela. Cut the crap."

"Jem, I-" But the words caught in my throat as he bent low to meet my gaze. Even for an archangel he was tall, at least half a foot taller. His eyes burned with an intensity I had not seen before, never once moving from my face. They were a beautiful dark yellow in color, like molten gold, despite the anger that shone plainly in their depths. They were one of the first things I had seen after the creation of my being. Jem had been there from the beginning. There was no one I trusted more.

"You're a fool for going alone. They could kill you."

I blinked, shocked for a split second, before my face twisted into fury. "I will _not_ be intimidated by some dirty, crossbreed, _Nephilim._" My hands clenched in to fists, and I pushed away from him.

This merely incensed him more.

"_Do not walk away from me, Sela,"_ he growled, viciously yanking my arm and pinning me against the wall.

We had been in this position before only a few hours ago, although the heat that had passed between us had been of a different kind.

But if there was one thing we were evenly matched on, it was arguing.

"_Don't_ start this, Jem. We've been through this before," I said warningly. My body was tight with tension, and my anger hadn't died down yet.

His mouth twitched as if he was going to smile, but his eyes still burned directly into my own without a trace of humor. "I'm stronger," he whispered quietly.

"I'm faster."

His grip on my arms tightened. "I'm older, so listen to me when I give you an order."

And just like that my fury rippled through me once more. It wasn't difficult to break his grip, but I might have shoved him back with more force than necessary. He slammed into the opposite wall and tumbled to his knees.

I growled, "I'm angrier, and you do_ not_ give me orders." I stretched my arms for a moment before continuing out the antechamber of the Archangel's Table.

The decision had been made to descend to Earth in order to confirm that the Nephil Nora Grey would continue to uphold her promise to quell any uprising with the Nephilim Blood Society. It was a concern that had been growing amongst the angels and archangels as anarchy began to arise. Five reports of kidnapped angels whose wings were torn off and then confined by devilscraft had surfaced. They would have to find out immediately if this was due to the Nephil girl's betrayal.

In order to redeem myself for a recent failed mission, I had volunteered at the last table. Jem had not been present, but word traveled fast. He had not been impressed.

I glanced to my right to where he had crumpled, but I had not expected him to recover so quickly. Yet, suddenly, I felt myself pinned under his weight. His legs restrained my lower body; while his hands held my wrists so tightly they were under pressure of snapping. A nuisance I didn't need at that moment. I instinctively bared my teeth, ready to snap at him.

He leaned over me, his dark hair almost shading his eyes as it fell forward. "Do. Not. Test. Me." His voice was deadly quiet, but it was not what stilled my resistance.

I was amazed that I had missed it before. How had I not noticed?

While he still blazed in fury, I could see his eyes were red and bloodshot. He looked wearier than normal, something that stretched deeper than our recent scuffle. His jaw clenched tightly as I searched his face, and he looked away. A muscle twitched, and I felt some of the pressure ease in his grip as I made no more moves to fight.

"Jem…" I whispered quietly.

His strength seemed to seep out of him, and suddenly he collapsed onto his elbows. His cheek nuzzled into my neck, and his hands crept up to lace themselves with my own. I could see strands of my own long blonde hair tangle with his dark locks, creating a stark contrast.

"I saw some of the victims. The angels that were captured." His words were slightly muffled as he murmured them against my neck. I squeezed his hands and brushed my thumb along his knuckle, giving as much comfort as I could muster into that touch.

"The wounds…they were still bleeding. They wouldn't stop shaking…" He trailed off, lost in some vision that I couldn't see.

I could feel his eyelashes brush against my neck, and his breath was hot on my collarbone.

"Shhh, I'll be careful. I promise," I said softly.

His hands suddenly unlaced from mine, and he raised himself up so he was hovering just inches above my face.

"You have twelve hours before I come down there and drag you back myself, with or without a report for the table."

I nodded without really registering what he said. Instead, I studied the sharp angles and planes of his face. I had them memorized long ago, but in different light I still managed to find shadows I had not known before: The swell of his lips. The curl of his eyelashes. Beneath these, his eyes were fierce, daring me to challenge his declaration.

I would not.

Slowly and ever so gently, I raised a hand to trace his hairline, tucking a loose strand behind his ear. Heat radiated off him once more, but this time there was no anger behind his eyes.

My heart swelled at the look in his eyes. It was a look I felt I had always known; a look that promised me eternity, and it drew the words out of me before I could stop them.

"I love you. I would tear out my own wings so long as it meant I could return to you."

I boldly held his gaze, watching his emotions flicker in their depths. Without a word he firmly grasped my face in his hands and pulled me to him, his mouth crushing against my own.

He pulled back for a moment only to say, "I would be there to put you back together again, at whatever cost. I would chain myself in Hell to keep you safe."

We stayed like that for as long as we could, my back pressed against the cool marble while his body warmed me from above. Everywhere he touched earned either a sigh of contentment or mewls of need. We fit together as if part of the same mold.

Which is why it felt as if I lost an arm when I had to turn my back to descend.

At the time, I was thankful my wingspan blocked him from my view. Looking back, however, I wonder that if I had seen his face once more I would not have left. Heaven knows, if I had known what was to come I would not have gone alone.

But maybe that there was the blessing I was given. If taking all the trauma this world could offer meant that Jem was safe, I would do it all again.

**I hope you all enjoyed the beginning. This is just a little short story I'm writing. I had a little brain blast after finishing "Silence", and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do. Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

As I walked back out through the gates of the Delphic Amusement Park, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

We had met in secret, not wishing our presences to be noticed, in a boarded up concession stand building. I could still smell the faint scent of popcorn and soft pretzels in the walls despite the layers of dust that covered every surface.

Nora Grey had entered with, to my surprise, a well-known traitor amongst our ranks. He referred to himself now as Patch. I had heard he had ties to the Nephil, but I had not known they had progressed into exchanging amorous affections. I filed this away to make sure to report it later.

The Nephil had said she was doing all she could to quell any signs of an uprising, but it was clear she wasn't a capable liar. Our discussion had been rather tense, ending with a promise to return in full force if the signs of anarchy were not put to rest soon.

While "Patch" had made no outward reaction, I could see the Nephil shaking from where I stood. There was no doubt in my mind that she feared the archangels' threat.

Yet, why was the hair on the back of my neck standing on end? There was a tension between my wings that was unfamiliar to me. Logic told me to leave now – I had the information I was assigned to acquire – but curiosity kept me walking around the edge of the park 's chain link fence.

My fingers trailed lightly along the metal links, but nothing out of the ordinary caught my attention.

"Well, what is this we have here?"

I faltered for a second, startled. I hadn't noticed the blonde-haired man leaning casually against a black sports sedan parked underneath the shade one of the trees that lined the amusement park. There was something off about the where he stood, as if the air around him rippled.

It wasn't until I noticed the ring that emitted a faint bluish glow, along with two other men that appeared just as quickly on either side of me, that I understood.

"Devilscraft, Nephilim? You're messing with powerful forces by warping matter. I had been told no one else had known of its existence"

The man simply smirked. "Bag her."

I wouldn't have been able to defend myself even if I could. Thin cords, also emitting the same bluish glow, whipped around my ankles, and suddenly I found myself unable to move. My feet flew out from under me, but it was as if a freezing sensation was spreading from where the cords were bound. To my horror, the glow seemed to seep into my very skin.

I scrabbled along the cement, but even the attempt to beat my wings to gain some momentum was becoming difficult. It felt as if I had been dumped in molasses.

One of the men muttered, "We have twenty minutes until the rally. No time to get to headquarters. Let's just head to the warehouse quick, cut 'em, and go."

A shiver raced up my spine, and my nails dug into the cement with renewed effort.

The man against the sedan blew a breath out his cheeks. "Fine, fine. I really don't care. Bind her hands and get a bag over her head."

I gave one last beat of my wings before another cord bound them tight to my back and chest. I relished the feel of the feathers against my skin, and closed my eyes.

* * *

The wall was cool against my cheek. I wanted to turn my head to cool my right side, but all my energy had left long ago. Now, I sagged against my restraints. My wrists, which had been manacled above my head, were already emitting the eerie glow of the devilscraft. The effects had yet to wear off, if they ever would.

I closed my eyes, letting the cool cement chill the tear tracks on my cheeks.

* * *

I had felt no pain – angels couldn't - but the sense of loss had been almost instantaneous. It had been as if someone had dug their nails inside my back and tugged my insides until they were ripped out on display. It left a strange feeling of emptiness in its place, something I wasn't sure could ever be repaired.

My back itched where patches of blood had dried, but I could still feel a few little rivulets continue to run. The sound of the drops splattering on the floor had been my sole companion for the past few hours.

* * *

"Sela."

My back was to the voice, and I flinched at how loud it seemed in the silence of the warehouse.

There was a pause, but suddenly I heard footsteps move swiftly to my left side. The chains above my head that held my wrists twitched and jerked as rough hands tried to snap the cursed restraints

"What is this devilry," the voice muttered. I closed my eyes, uncaring as to what was going on around me.

It wasn't until I felt hands brushing over my back, invading the wounded area, that I realized my hands no longer hung on a hook above my head. They automatically twitched at the invasion, but hung limply once more as the gentle hands moved away from the raw patches of muscle and skin.

My eyes cracked, dusty with dried salty tears. It took a minute or two, but finally the world came into focus. Dark hair and golden eyes gazed down at me in horror.

I licked my lips. "Jem."

Without warning, my body collapsed into his arms, but I had no energy left to care. His mouth moved, and yet all I could hear was faint ringing in my ears. My cheek rested on his shoulder, and as my eyes closed I felt something wet roll onto my skin. It was a rare sight to see, an archangel crying. His lips trembled against my ear, as he whispered. "I'm going to fix you."

His fingers passed millimeters above the shredded skin and muscle where my wings had been a few hours before. The stumps of the wings still remained - I could feel them flex with each movement I made – but the rest had been roughly sheared away.

My hope had drained away the moment my shirt had been cut away, so I said nothing in return.

I wasn't sure if it was his body or mine that trembled from the trauma. He held me gently as I lay limply in his lap, brushing my damp hair away from my face and rocking us as we sat on the cool floor.

Another teardrop rolled down my back.

"I'm going to put you back together again."

**Well, this was just a quick short story that had popped into my head, and I wanted to get it out there before I forgot it. I couldn't stop thinking about that archangel in the cage, and the other terrible things Hank Millar and his cronies might have done. Hope you all enjoyed it!**


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